The Life and Death of a District 2 Girl
by RandomGhostie
Summary: This story follows the life of Clove, a tribute in the 74th Hunger Games. From her Birth to her Death it goes along events in her life which shaped her into what she is today. All told by herself from her own point of view.
1. Birth

My name is Clove Kentwell and I am from District 2.

I was born on the 13th June. I have a brother called Spear who is only two years older than me.

I was reaped in the 74th annual Hunger Games where I promised to win and bring pride to District 2, bring pride to my parents who had wanted this for so long.

But I lost.

I was killed by that freak Thresh from District 11, how was I supposed to know he could hear me bragging about the death of that little girl from his District. Wasn't he meant to be looking after himself anyway?

If he hadn't come along I could have won, no, I _would _have won these games.

This is the story of my life. What happened before the games and during the games, my friends my family and the events that shaped who I am.

It began at the birth of me; District 2 is one of the only Districts which actually have a hospital. Outside stand Peacekeepers with guns ready at their disposal. The building is a dark grey with the Capitol logo taking up the whole wall at the front, a reminder of who is in charge in this world.

My father is a Peacekeeper, he came home to find my mother on the bathroom floor screaming in agony while my brother sat beside her asking if 'mommy' was okay. He rushed her to the hospital fear within his voice wondering if his wife should be bleeding that much, his son hadn't caused so much blood to flow so why did his new child? Sweat dripped from his forehead as they were rushed into a room and he was ushered out.

He and my brother sat outside the room waiting to hear any piece of the news the doctors had to offer.

After another hour of waiting for news a doctor finally walked out the room but there was no smile on his lips. He let out a sigh and my father stepped forward. "I'm very sorry" The doctor began suddenly stopping as he searched for the right words. However before he could get the words out my father spoke loudly.

"Is the baby okay!" The doctor nodded.

"And Cloverly?" That was the name of my mother, the doctor paused as my father said this. His eyes widened and he ran forward trying to push past the doctor but a Peacekeeper waiting by the side of the door grabbed him.

"I'm very sorry. She lost a lot of blood and we had to surgically remove the baby. She didn't make it."

My father said that day he screamed, yelled at the top of his voice before pushing his way into the room. He said my mother's face was covered by a cloth, so was most of her body. But that I sat in the corner in a little cot type thing. That I cried out almost as loud as my fathers scream, my brother came over to me trying to look at me. He was only two, all he said was 'Where's mummy?' and another sob was let out by my father.

He walked over to me and looked down, he saw the pink cloth wrapped around my body. A girl. He picked me up and held me close trying to stop my crying as well as his own.

"Clove… Your name is Clove"

So I started life the way I ended it.

A killer.


	2. Promotion

My father was always a fan of the Capitol, he said that without them then we wouldn't get anything we needed. We'd be in chaos; they rose to the top to take control of the nation when it was in panic. So he said that we owed it to them to protect the great nation that gave us food, water and shelter.

It is a belief of our District, we live to aid the Capitol citizens. To repay them for looking after us. I have always wondered why other Districts seem not to like the Capitol, why they think rebelling against the ones who gave us everything will solve any problems. They are ungrateful; they wouldn't be alive if people were left to fight for territory like barbarians. That's how the old world failed, it was how wars began. Because the leaders were not strong, they did not keep everyone together as a team.

Districts repay them in different ways, our District gives them guards in order to protect and enforce the laws they set. Make sure people abide by them. They call them Peacekeepers. Being a Peacekeeper is a hard job, you need to be in fit physical condition when you apply for the job. Of course idiotic buffoons let the money they earn go to their head, or rather their stomach, and binge on food which they don't necessarily need.

However the smart ones realise they always need to be in top shape, they are expected to discipline other citizens and travel to other Districts and maybe even live in other Districts for a month or two to make sure they follow the rules.

My father is a Peacekeeper.

He has travelled to many other Districts, he would tell me stories of other Districts and what they did for a living. Of course at the age of two I was too young to understand but now after hearing them when I could comprehend them I realise how different we are to other Districts.

When I was two my father was working within District 2, he got sent to District 8 for a month which was when me and my brother stayed with my father's best friends family. His friend went with him to District 8 while the man's wife looked after us and her child Cato.

In District 8 there was a massive fire which spread through three of the factories, when my father returned he told me and my four year old brother about how he helped the people. How he directed his workmates to save lives and stop the fire.

He explained about how the fire curled around the building trapping and suffocating the people inside, he said how he ran into save a child who was working part time. He said how the burns scarred his body, leaving his whole arm covered in deep burns. He wore a bandage, fire had damaged my father.

I always hated fire after that.

But a few days later as my father rested he got a call, I watched as he jumped up in happiness yelling out and clapping his hands together. My brother walked in and jumped up into my dad's arms as I sat and watch. He spoke with joy, happiness. A promotion. He had been promoted to one of the leader Peacekeepers. He would be based in District 2, so that meant we would see more of him.

I was happy for him of course; more of him around was brilliant. I put my arms in the air and he picked me up, but winced as I grabbed onto his bad arm. Fire had hurt him, fire was dangerous. Fire shouldn't be allowed to grow and take control, I hated fire and the power it could have.

I liked that he was promoted, it made him happy.

However the nasty piece of work I had to call 'step-mother' was a downfall. If he had not been promoted he wouldn't have met the cow.

Oh well, guess you can't have everything.


End file.
